Seven Devils: A Frostiron AU
by KatLokidottir
Summary: In a time long ago, there were 7 Kingdoms: Asgard, Midgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Svartalfheim, Muspelheim, and Jotunheim. Each was ruled by a King or Queen, each with its own strengths. Asgard, ruled by Odin, was the most prosperous, and his two sons were raised to be kings. Or, rather, one of them. The other became a sulking shadow. But one day the shadow got tired of being ignored.


_~~18 years ago, to the day~~_

He runs, cloak billowing behind him as he weaves between the densely-packed trees, jumping over ancient and gnarled fallen logs and protruding roots. His breath comes in short pants, now, but he doesn't slow, listening as the shouts of his supposed 'friends' fade behind him.

When he can no longer hear those taunting voices, he collapses next to a towering oak, leaning against the wind-worn bark as small crystal droplets fall from his eyes, their mocking voices ringing in his head.

_Weak. Inferios. Not good enough. Never. Liar. _

His leg begins stinging as a tear hits his thigh, and he looks down to see deep crimson staining his trousers.

_Damn,_ he thinks, pressing a hand to the cut to stifle the bleeding. It's not much of a wound, compared to others, but he'd prefer to limit any loss of bodily fluid, especially in this forest.

"That looks painful," says a masculine voice from behind him, and in half a second he's on his feet, the dagger he carries with him in hand.

Instinctively, he begins sizing the man up, readying himself for a possible fight.

Lesson number one in fight training: look for weapons. The man appears unarmed but for a hunting knife at his belt, but his hands are not moving towards it, instead, strangely, moving away.

Not seeing any immediate danger, he lowers the blade slightly, lowering his guard (FOOLISH shouts his trainer) to actually study the man before him.

He wears a violet brocade tunic, indicative of an upperclassman, as if his gold cape clasps were not enough. His trousers are those of a hunter, but his boots are those of the nobility, albeit scuffed around the soles. His cloak is a deep plum, almost black, and shimmers slightly in the humidity of the forest. The hood is thrown back haphazardly, and the wearer's face revealed. The man is tall, at least as tall is Lady Frigga, and as well-built and muscular as Marthok himself. His skin is pale, his eyes the color of fresh spring amber. There are small, faint scars at the corners of his mouth, perpendicular to his lips, as well as one next to his right ear. His hair frames his face, the dark blonde of his loosely tied-back hair almost matching his eyes.

The man flashes a smile, just this side of too sharp, showing open palms.

"I'm not going to hurt you, little one," he says soothingly.

He glares. "For your sake, I certainly hope so."

The man cocks his head to the side, then his eyes widen once he realizes the boy's identity. "Prince Loki?"

"Yes."

The man drops into a low bow. "Lord Thanos at your service, my prince."

Loki's eyes narrow. "Father has never spoken of a 'Lord Thanos.'"

The man chuckles, but Loki can tell there is no humor in it.

"I would imagine not. I am not active in Asgardian politics. I am not of Asgard."

Instantly Loki's guard goes up.

"Where do you hail from, then?"

"I'm from the Outside."

"Then why are you in Asgard?"

The man sighs, running a hand over his hair just as Thor so often does.

"My people aren't exactly fond of me, as of now."

"Why not?" asks Loki carefully.

"I... I made a mistake. Unfortunately, my error lead to the death of one of our politicians."

Loki takes a cautious step back. "How?"

The man's eyes fix on a point known only to himself, a melancholy look glazing over his eyes.

"I am- no, was- a sorcerer for King Alexei. It was a nice job, a nice life, living in the palace. There was a time that I would never do anything to jeopardize such a lifestyle. That was before I met her.

"The chief lady-in-waiting, Ariadne. I came into the throne room one day, and there she was, standing off by those familiar marble pillars. Her hair was the fabric of the midnight sky, her smile as bright as the sun, and her eyes sparkled like the stars when she laughed. I was captivated.

"I began visiting her at night, in secret. I fell hard, and she did too. For people of our station, it was forbidden, but we didn't care, then, too lost in each other to see what was coming.

"He found us. The Kind found us. He was furious. He was going to kill me, to kill her. He went after her, and I threw up a shield to defend her. It backfired. It killed him.

"The people... Well, they weren't pleased. They did not know of our affair, only that my magic had killed the King. They were calling for execution, and I've no doubt it would have been granted. So I ran. I escaped the prison and disappeared. They think me dead, and I have no desire to prove them otherwise."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They never liked me anyways. They thought that magic was unmasculine, that it shouldn't be practiced by civilized men. The only reason I hadn't already been killed by an extremist citizen was because of my station as the King's sorcerer."

Loki huffed. "Yeah, I know how that feels. Back at the palace, they don't care about how smart you are, what 'cheap tricks' you can do. They care only for blood and battle. I can't even get any tutor in the palace because the only magic-practicers in Asgard are female, and they simply cannot have a female teaching the prince."

Lord Thanos smiled. "If you ever need any tutoring, my leige, feel free to come to me. My residence is just a while down this path, and I am usually at home. I shall tutor you in the art of the Ancient Magicks, if you wish it."

Loki grinned. "I'll think about it."

2 days later, Loki appeared at Thanos's door.

"May I come in?"


End file.
